Yuanfen
by Queen Eli
Summary: yuanfen – a Chinese word, meaning a relationship by fate or destiny. No matter how hard it seemed, or how many times he felt like their love had been lost, Luck trusted the yuanfen between them to bring him and Dallas back together again. [Modern day AU, Luck/Dallas centric. Heavy trigger warnings.]
1. Koi no Yokan

_(Japanese) The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love. Differs from "love at first sight" as it does not imply that the feeling of love exists, only the knowledge that a future love is inevitable._

The boy knew instinctively that something was wrong when he saw the little reddish-haired boy sitting alone on the wooden swing, moving back and forth halfheartedly. Luck had never seen this boy before, but he looked very sad and almost...angry. At this point in time, the innocence in Luck's heart was still strong, and seeing someone sad was something the boy simply couldn't ignore. Without any other forethought, he ran over to the boy, standing in front of him. The other's cobalt blue eyes moved to address him, and he frowned.

"What do ya' want?" He muttered. Despite the cold face the boy put up, Luck could see the pain hiding there, and he smiled.

"I don't want anything," he replied, sitting down. "You looked sad. So I came to say hello." The boy blinked, a small flash of confusion crossing his face. Luck's smile grew wider.

"Well, I ain't sad." The boy kicked a bit of dirt with one of his expensive-looking shoes. "What's that stupid thing?" He pointed at the stuffed rabbit that Luck held, and Luck clutched it tighter to his chest.

"He's not stupid." Luck stated firmly. "He's my pal!"

"Everything's stupid, 'cause I'm stupid. That's what Dad says." The boy was now looking at him like he'd been kicked, and Luck pushed out his lower lip a bit and puffed out his chest.

"You're not stupid! Nobody's stupid," Luck told him matter-of-factly. The other boy was quiet for a moment, before looking back at Luck.

"But only babies have stuffed animals. My sister's a baby an' she has a kitten, a stuffed one. Yer not a baby, are ya?" Luck pushed out his lip a bit more at that.

"No, I'm not. I'm six." He held out one of his hands, palm-up, and the thumb on his other hand stuck up. "And I have three brothers. They have stuffed animals, and they're all older than me." The other boy looked surprised.

"You have a lot of brothers. I only have a brother and a sister." He sounded sad again. "I get lonely." Taking the boy's hand, Luck looked at him seriously.

"Don't worry, when I grow up, I'll marry you. Then you won't have to be alone, 'cause when you're married you can never, ever leave." The boy looked at Luck, shocked.

"Boys can't get married to boys," he stated.

"Sure they can," Luck told him. "Anyway, I can do whatever I want!" He smiled at the boy, who finally managed to smile back. "And I won't forget, I promise." Just as he said that, a familiar voice called his name, and he looked over his shoulder. "That's my Mama. I gotta go home." He gave the boy's hand a final squeeze before letting go. As he turned to leave, the boy called;

"Wait! I don't even know yer name!"

"Luck!" The blonde called back. "Luck Gandor!"

"Dallas Genoard!" The reddish-haired boy now stood up and waved at Luck, who waved back, before running out of sight.

It was the beginning of their relationship, and even at the tender age of six, they felt what they'd know in about two decades or so was "_koi no yokan_", the beginning of their lives together.


	2. Yahrzeit

_(Yiddish) It is the one year anniversary of the death of a family member._

"Dallas, come on, it's cold. You're gonna get sick."

The now twelve-year-old Luck pulled gently at Dallas's sleeve, but the other boy shrugged him off. "Just a _minute_, Luck. I promised Mom I'd stay. Just a few more minutes." His voice cracked, and Luck looked away, knowing exactly what that sound meant. Dallas was going to cry, and if Luck watched him, he'd start crying too. But, he couldn't do that. He had to be strong.

This was Dallas's mother's _yahrzeit_, after all. Dallas was still staring blankly at the cold marble slab that marked her resting place, brushing his hand across her name; _Daniela Martinez Genoard_. Her name was just as pretty as she had been, and though Luck hadn't known her much, he remembered her face. Anybody who saw a picture of Dallas and his mother would know instantly that they were related. They had the same shade of hair, the same eyes, the same face. Her skin was only a tad bit darker than Dallas's, too.

Luck looked at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as 7:41. "Dallas, it's time. It's...an official year now. Can we go home?"

Dallas was quiet for a minute, running his fingers through his hair as he sniffled. "Yeah. Yeah, lemme say goodbye." He crouched down in front of the headstone, managing a smile as he uttered a few words in Spanish, but his face became stone cold again as he stood, taking the hand Luck extended out to him.

"You can stay tonight if you don't feel like walking home." Luck's gentle voice cut through Dallas's red and grey haze of anger and sorrow, and he blinked, then sighed heavily. It wasn't the walking that bothered him; it was his stupid, stupid father. His stupid father, who acted like his mother was nothing but trash as soon as she'd gotten sick. His stupid father, who'd acted as if she didn't exist after she died. His stupid father, who'd had the nerve to yell at _him_ for being stupid when he insisted he go to the cemetery for her _yahrzeit_.

He hoped his father died. See if Dallas cared. See if he showed up to his funeral.

See if he held him in his arms and screamed for him not to go as he died in his arms.

"You sure yer brothers an' yer dad are cool with that?" Dallas asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stalked beside Luck. "I mean, fuck. I don't really care, forget I said anything."

Dallas slept on the Gandor's couch that night, as he had for many nights ever since his mother died. The family had learned not to ask questions.

Luck's father died a few weeks later, and the next year, they spent his _yahrzeit_ together. Dallas held Luck in his arms while he cried, shoving his face into his friend's chest and bawling. Luck swore, he _knew_ this was the last time this was going to happen. This was the last time he was going to be weak. He had to change, for his father, and for his brothers. This was his last day of being a child, and he was going to spend it acting like one.

"Does it get any easier?" Luck asked as Dallas cradled him in his arms. He hummed softly in response, his hand brushing over Luck's hair like he'd done to his own sister so many times. "I mean, dealing with it. Does it get easier?"

"No," Dallas answered, harsh and true as always. "You more 'r less get numb after a while, but the pain's still there. The emptiness's still there."

The next day, Luck woke up, put on the emotionless facade he'd become very used to wearing, gelled his hair back, and put on the suit his father had passed down to him. Keith and Berga didn't ask questions, and Claire had started to ask, to say, "why, why Luck, you don't have to grow up Luck," but the boy ignored him, put on his coat, and went to take care of business.

He was a man now, after all.


End file.
